Island Of Mine (Simani) video

The first rays of sun leaning over the rim,
Touch the black silver coves of the bay,
As a silhouette doryman leans o'er the bow,
To haul his first net for the day.

The last blush of light on a long summer's day,
Fades from crimson to purple to green;
Down the far western sky falls a curtain of night,
On a quiet cove falling asleep.

The warm summer rain on a calm fishing stream,
With cabin smoke straight to the sky;
Two old fishing buddies with never a care,
Teasing a trout with a fly.

If I were an artist with palette and paint,
With more than just words made to rhyme,
I'd show you some pictures
that hang in my thoughts,
Of this beautiful island of mine.

In a little schoolhouse on the side of the hill,
When June brings the year to an end,
A room without children, so quiet and still,
Longs for September again.

December's first snow always seems a bit shy,
So at night time a blanket it weaves;
When a million fine feathers fall out of the sky,
To cover the brown autumn leaves.

If I were an artist with palette and paint,
With more than just words made to rhyme,
I'd show you some pictures
that hang in my thoughts,
Of this beautiful island of mine.
I'd show you some pictures
that hang in my thoughts,
Of this beautiful island of mine.

####.... Bud Davidge of Simani ....####

Recorded by Simani on their ninth album (Home And Native Land, trk#1, 1992 CD, SWC Productions, English Harbour West, NL, recorded at Sim's Studio, Belleoram, NL).